My next foray into the world of longer walks came on 24 April 2020 with a walk to The Common. Before I left home I had an idea actually walking on the Common was going to be even more of a nightmare than Riverside Park but I figured the walk there and back would take care of my daily exercise and anything else was a bonus. Besides, I wanted to see the new gates I’d heard about. After a long, slow, uneventful, uphill slog, on a very hot day, I made it to the gates. My first observation was that they were very turquoise, an incongruous colour for a park to my mind, even though I’d have liked it anywhere else. Then I spotted the yellow note pinned to them. For a second I thought the powers that be might actually have closed The Common, although how they’d ever police such a thing was a mystery. Then I got closer and discovered it was just a message about social distancing.
There were people milling about, but not so many that it made me nervous, so I went through the new gates and set off towards the flats with a vague feeling of optimism. This didn’t last very long. The further I went the more people I encountered. Many of them didn’t appear to have seen the signs about social distancing, or certainly not to have read them. Most of them were running, or cycling. It all began to look like a particularly bad idea, so at the first opportunity, I scooted off the path along one of the trails.
Part of me wondered if this might be an even worse idea. Although I knew exactly where the trail would lead me, I also knew it was narrow in places, with very little room for manoeuvre. If I met someone coming the other way it could be a problem. The upside was the cool shade after my hot, uphill walk. As it happened, I was in luck and made it to the other end without meeting anyone. A knowledge of local trails was proving to be quite useful yet again.
This particular trail starts near the Hawthorns and comes out close to the Old Cemetery gate. Once I’d left the cool greenness and looked across the flats I could see that any kind of walking on the main part of The Common was going to be a nightmare. There were people everywhere, mostly in pairs, so busy chatting they weren’t paying much attention to their surroundings. If the zigzagging on Riverside Park had been bad, this would have been unbearable. In fairness, it was also so hot by this time anything that wasn’t in the shade sounded like torture.
A quick peek through the cemetery gates told me there was no one about, at least on the main path, so I went inside. If I had a plan at all, it was to do a circuit of the cemetery perimeter and then head back along Cemetery Road towards home. In hindsight, I should have stuck to the main path.
I hadn’t gone very far before I encountered my first obstacle. The obstacle was walking in the middle of the trail, very, very slowly, whilst talking on a hands free phone, or maybe having an animated conversation with themselves. In ordinary circumstances I’d have overtaken them but this was impossible whilst keeping a safe distance. All I could do was dawdle along behind trying not to be annoyed and wondering what the point in walking in such an interesting place was if you weren’t even paying attention.
Eventually I came to a side trail and breathed a sigh of relief to leave my obstacle behind. After that it was more or less plain sailing. I wandered along the trail in blissful silence, stopping now and then to look at a grave and moving from one patch of shade to another. It occurred to me that there might be graves here from the 1918 pandemic. The Spanish flu killed somewhere in the region of 228,00 people in the UK and 1918 was the first year on record in which deaths exceeded births. With a little more energy, I might have even found some. By this time though, the heat was beginning to make my brain fuzzy.
In the end, after a quick sit on a bench near the chapel to drink some water, I headed back down Cemetery Road towards home. As I did, I couldn’t help imagining what it must have been like in the autumn of 1918, when the second wave of flu struck. Was this road lined with black plumed horses pulling coffin filled carriages? The numbers of dead would suggest it probably was, yet, amid all the horror and worry of the Great War, this twentieth century pandemic seems to have been forgotten. There are war memorials in every town and village to honour the brave dead of the Great War but not a single monument anywhere to remember those who died from the Spanish flu. In that one horrific year, their numbers were greater than the sum total of all the men who died in battle in the four years of the war. How have we forgotten them?
By that point I’d given up on the Common. I started running up and down the roads next to it. I had what I considered to be a fairly safe 10k route worked out and I did it three times a week. Thank goodness most of the houses I ran past had front gardens. It would have been unbearable otherwise.
I knew it would be bad before I got there but the round trip is about 5 miles for me so any extra walking was a bonus. It was a while before I went back though.
A cool and shady walk for the most part and more super photos to document it. I always find it annoying when someone is dawdling in front of me with no room to get past. So many people now talk on their phone at any and every opportunity taking absolutely no interest in their surroundings, however interesting or beautiful they are.
Thank you. It was a nice walk for the most part. The phone zombies drive me mad. They seem to be everywhere and to rely on the rest of the world taking evasive action to accommodate them. They might as well sit at home, or walk on a treadmill because they don’t see anything around them.